She stared at the red sand, her mind a blank. Everything was a faded memory, unable to recall where she had come from or her purpose in life. Scars covered her back and arms, but that too was buried deep in the subconscious of her mind. Long, black hair whipped about her face, and she already felt the heat of the rising sun. Her eyes were dark as midnight, but were filled with loneliness and confusion.
With no past or future to guide her, she was an outcast, even among those not wanted by their kind. In the shadows she struggled to exist, stealing the food she needed, and killing those that tried to harm her. She didn't even know who her enemies were, but yet there were the scars to prove that somewhere was a person that hated her enough to leave them.
Behind her was an endless sea of corn and cotton, but ahead was an ocean of red sand. Either path was death, with a slim chance of survival. Yet, despite the odds against the small female, she felt something calling to her from across the desert. Did she go; or chance her future in the hands of cruel field masters? They had yet to discover her, and the servants paid a heavy price for the things she took.
Most of the time she killed her own food, but the winters were harsh and drove many of the animals in the heart of the earth. Survival of the fittest was all she had to live by, and she hated herself for it. She hated the field masters, and she wanted to take the painful blows inflicted upon the servants for the tiniest infraction. The masters didn't need an excuse to beat them, and sometimes the servant died.
She had woken in this same field not too long ago, but it seemed like forever. Several days had passed as she slowly recovered her energy and tried to regain what was taken from her. Occasionally she would think about the pile of bodies at her side that day, but she couldn't find it in herself to feel guilty about how or why they died. All she could feel was a deep rage that never quite went away.
"Where do I go from here? I can't stay. All I feel is hate and I want nothing more than to tear these field masters apart!" She was confused by her deep need for revenge, and she knew she'd kill them if given the chance.
Taking a deep breath, she stepped forward, knowing her only chance was in the distance. The odds were against her, with no memory to guide her. It didn't matter. She was strong and refused to give into the aching loneliness consuming her every waking moment.
"Any sign of her?"
"No. She's completely vanished and the elite are demanding answers to the dead field masters."
"They can't possibly believe she had anything to do with their deaths!"
"She's missing and they're dead. Quite frankly I don't give a damn! You were supposed to protect her Turles! We gave our word that nothing would happen to her!"
"If you're son hadn't been teaching her how to fight, none of this would have happened! No one knew she existed and she never questioned my authority either!"
"Leave Raditz out of this, Turles! If nothing else, you should be greatful for what little training she did get. Lema never started a fight, but don't mistake her gentle nature for a weakness. She has the same look in her eyes that her father did, a calm patience that can quickly change with the right circumstances."
"Does he know?"
Bardock sighed. "Lema's father hasn't been seen for sixteen years, Turles. He was a legend, even long before he completely faded from our lives. She's the only proof that he still existed; why he chose us to raise and protect her; I'll never know. I don't want to be the one to tell him we failed."
"Can you find her?"
"It's been six months Turles. Lema apparently doesn't want to be found. When she's ready, she'll return to us."
"I just need to know if she's alive. I don't give a damn about the dead field masters. The law..."
"Isn't aware of who and what she is! We can't tell anyone or her fate will surely be the same as her fathers! He had no friends, yet he was needed by everyone!"
"She's alive, Bardock."
"Don't be so happy for her, Turles. Her path is a difficult one."
"You know her future..."
"I see only images... She's very alone Turles. Have you not noticed the way she blends to the shadows? Lema never wanted to be seen, she watched everything and everyone, and the hate in her grew until it was a breathing entity of its own."
"Why?"
"Do you really need to ask? You hide her in a field of slaves. Not a field master, not a slave, and an outcast is all they know her as. Can you truly blame her?"
"Just find her, Bardock. I'll handle the guards."
"Don't reveal who she is Turles."
She lifted her head and snarled, water dripping from her chin. The scent was faint, but she knew he was tracking her again. Whoever he was, he was determined to find her, and she wasn't stupid enough to challenge him a second time. She had barely gotten away.
He came and went for long periods, but he always returned, and always alone. What did he want and why was he so intent on capturing her? He had called her Lema, but the name had no meaning to her.
Wiping her mouth, she stood and wrapped her black tail around her slim waist. It was something else that troubled her. Every other Saiya-jin she had come in contact with had a brown one, never a black one. They attacked her on sight for it and for a long time she withdrew, not anymore.
At least the one tracking her never tried to hurt her, but she refused to go with him. She liked her life in the desert and she wanted nothing more than to be left alone. Here she was at peace.
The male tracking her was good, one of the best that had hunted her in the two years she had been wandering. It didn't matter; she would lose him again like she normally did. The trick was to find places that covered or merged with her scent; like the river.
He was also patient, a rare trait for a male Saiya-jin. Not since the first time had he called to her, as if he sensed the dark rage in her, but was no less determined to give up his search.
He wasn't taking her! Lema jumped in the cold river and started to swim, whimpering slighlty from the pain. She ignored it and continued to drive down stream, hoping to shake him. Instead he seemed to draw closer, as if he knew her intent and was trying to cut her off.
With a final surge, she dove beneath the water, finding what she had discovered a couple of weeks earlier. She hadn't expected him to dive in after. Desparate to shake him, she moved into the tunnels, thinking she could get back.
He knew he was close to her this time. Bardock smirked. She was a rare challenge, part of the reason he continued this insane hunt. He could have ended it a long time ago, but he hadn't expected her to fight him. There had been no recognition in her gaze, but he had seen the scars left behind from her many battles.
She didn't trust him, a deep instinct pushing her to fight him at all cost. All he knew was the scars has not been on her face before she had vanished. Did the field masters put them there?
Bardock had easily closed the distance between them, catching a glimpse of her feet going beneath the crate. What he hadn't counted on were the tunnels in three different directions. "I know you're close. Come out, Lema."
Silence was his only answer, but he hadn't expected her to respond. She didn't the last time. "I'm not your enemy, Lema."
He thought he heard her snarl, but the sound echoed, making it impossible to pinpoint her exact location. What the hell happened? She was so angry, but she didn't know why. He had a strong hunch a deep part of her knew the answer. "I won't stop until we've had a chance to talk, Lema."
The water was freezing, more than capable of killing them both if they weren't careful. "This is growing tiresome, little one."
Bardock felt a brush against his mind, the first since she had vanished two years ago. He knew she was telepathic, but those abilities seemed to vanish along with her memories. It was the nickname she had responded to, but she wasn't coming out to him. Behind the rage and hate, was a deep terror and she refused to go back to it.
"Lema, dammit! You have only two choices, one which will kill you!"
She glanced behind her into the darkness. He wasn't lying, but Lema was so terrified of him. She didn't even remember why she was running from him. Lema felt drawn to his using the name Little One, as if he actually cared. She violently shook her head, not allowing herself to believe in the impossible. If he were her friend, why did she have whip marks on her face, back, and hands? He might have been telling the truth, but she couldn't take that chance.
What ever had forced her to forget the events prior to two years ago, terrified her far more than facing the darkness that threatened to swallow her. She was cold and tired, but without hesitation, she released her hold on the wall and allowed the water to carry her away from the one that called her Little One.
She ignored the part of her that wanted to go back, that needed Bardock's offer of comfort and protection. Lema was so alone... No one knew it better than herself.
Bardock sighed. She had made her choice and he hoped that she didn't regret it. The connection between them was faint, but it had grown stronger for a rare moment. She wanted to believe him, she even needed it, but Lema was too scarred by the past to allow Turles or himself close.
He didn't dare stay any longer. Bardock was already drawing attention to his continued absences, but no one dared to ask him where he went. The only person that would have received an answer was just as much of loner as Lema. "I'm not giving up on you, kid."
Lema lost track of the time in the dark tunnels. She was trapped, alone, and so close to death that she often considered letting it claim her. If she didn't find a way out and soon, the hypothermia would kill her. "You mustn't give in!"
Startled, she froze, searching all around her for the voice. It had seemed so real, but she knew she was alone in the tunnels. Still, the aura reaching for her was alot stronger than the one that had been hunting her for two years. "I know you're tired," it whispered in the corners of her mind; "Help is close. He can shield you from those that would cause you harm."
Lema started to shut him out, but he blasted through all her mental barriers as if they didn't exist. "To your right are some stairs."
"Who are you?"
"A forgotten Legend."
"I have no strength, but I have to try..." Gasping for breath, Lema grabbed the metal bars, screamed at the burning pain and started her climb that would mean life or death if she failed. Each time she reached for the next rung, her hands bled. With a surge of defiance, she continued her ascent. "I won't give up! I mustn't!"
After what seemed an eternity, she reached the opening and shoved the grate aside, yanked herself into a large room, and rested against a deep, purple and black carpet. Her muscles cramped and spasmed at the brush of air against her frozen skin. Lema whimpered, "Have to..."
Inch-by-inch, she crawled to the door, pulled herself up by using the wall, and walked into a long hallway. Blood oozed from several cuts and left a trail of crimson on the newly scrubbed floors. Lema was dying and strangely she didn't seem to mind so much anymore. At least she would be free... and happy... Happiness... It was a forgotten dream and as she dragged herself down the hall, she gave a sad smile.